God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen
by sycamoreleaf
Summary: AU - Odin cared quite little for his welfare; cared even littler for that of others. When he ends up estranging himself from world and family, three special ghosts decide to pay him a visit on one special night.  a.k.a. A Christmas Carol - THOR STYLE!
1. Laufey's Ghost

**Author now declares:** I hold no ownership over the quotations taken from Charles Dickens's _A Christmas Carol_ which is in public domain, nor do I claim ownership over _Thor. _This is written for the purpose of fan entertainment only.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>  
><strong>Laufey's Ghost<strong>

Laufey of Jotunheim was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. His partner himself signed it. And whoever knew of his partner knew that old Odin's word held more valor over things than that of the King's himself. Yes, old Laufey was as dead as a door-nail.

Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. But what truly matters is for the reader to know that Laufey was dead and decaying in his grave.

Though there are not many who mourned his death.

Odin, his business partner and friend in time of life, has been his soul mourner (at least, if one is brave enough as to consider Odin capable of mourning), sole executor, sole administrator and sole person in all the Nine Realms who could still paint a face to the name of Laufey. Not even his previous employers could recall their former master's face much. Quite a little mystery considering Laufey was not a man you didn't notice. His tremendous stature and blue skin were quite distracting features to possess when around aesirs.

Yet, in contrast, none could dare forget the face of Odin.

From the times of Laufey's lifetime, old Odin was known by most, if not all, as being a cold and cynical creature on his best of days. Quite so! He was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, old man Odin! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Though brilliant when it came to accounts and business strategies, he was still that one person to be avoided. If his sharp tongue did not wound you, then the coldness his mere presence seemed to send about in waves would certainly cool you to the core. People learned to knew of him and as thus learned to keep away from him. No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of old man Odin. It seems the sun itself came to shine littler and littler upon him, for when one came close to Odin, one would feel but the frostiness of the most bitter of winters.

Yet Odin cared not for such. In fact, Odin appeared to care quite little to none for matters concerning himself and his fellow men. What he cared about though was his money. Upon his passing, Laufey has left him quite a pretty penny. His formal partner's now former residence was now the place he called his own, though probably did not refer to it as "home". Few probably would, for the home was a dark and decaying building, always cold, always unwelcoming. But the house suited Odin well. As well as his firm did, if one would pause to ponder on the matter.

It was at this firm where Odin was found on one very special day of December the 24th. He had just completed some papers and was running over his books, head filled with numbers and hands busy writing them down when the nearby church bells struck the hour. Odin turned in his seat, sharp eye (for he now had only one; the other has been lost during a war which nobody seemed to remember anymore) now gazing upon the world from beyond his window. He sneered. With the setting of the sun the fog and darkness thickened so, that people ran about with flaring links, proffering their services to go before horses in carriages, and conduct them on their way. A fact was certain, and that was that no more customers will be shading Odin's doorstep for business this evening. Time was flying much too fast for Odin's liking, yet far too slow for that of his loyal clerk, whom – dare Odin say – appeared quite bored up in his Tank. At some point, the man even dared to wave at a figure who was passing by Odin's firm.

Odin grumbled. Why ever did he hire that man?

This clerk I speak of is one Thor Odinson, a tall, blond blue-eyed man still in the prime of his youth. His eyes shined with boyish mirth in conversations and the whole town knew of his glorious adventured which extended all the way into the icy lands of Jotunheim. But times had called for him to settle down. He was married now and providing for his wife and a daughter Odin had not taken the time to meet quite yet. Also, from what the old man gathered, it seems he had recently taken in his younger brother, who was living through some hard times as of now.

But when that brother happened to be Loki "Liesmith" Odinson, the town jester and mischief maker, Odin wondered just what led his son into this madness. Thor was much too charitable for his own good.

Still, like was life, and to live one must have money. Yet times were hard for all during those days, and work was scarcely found within the city. But old Odin had taken Thor as his clerk. He had need of one, after all and though probably not the sharpest person whom Odin has ever encountered in his life, Thor's strength was legendary and Odin was known to hold a great deal of money at his firm. A little bit of extra protection was always welcome. And of course, Thor was probably one of the very few who were still willing to work for the sharp old man, and did not complain much over the measly pay Odin offered him.

The fact that Thor was Odin's son did not influence the old man's decision in any way.

"Sir?" The clerk called, poking his head inside the office. "It appears to be closing time, sir." Odin grumbled at the notice, but he agreed that indeed it appeared to be so. When the clerk did not immediately ran out when Odin excused him, the old man became a little confused. Why did he still linger? It was only upon watching the clerk's blue eyes sparkle with a strange mirth, cheeks rosy from the cold and obvious excitement, that it finally struck him. Ah yes… it was the time of the year again – the moment when his silent, dim-witted clerk re-became the merry, loud, obnoxious blond giant of a son.

"You'll want all day tomorrow, I suppose?" It was a question, yet coming from Odin it sounded more like a statement.

"If quite convenient, Sir."

"It's not convenient," Odin complained, now finally stretching from his seat, picking up his hat and heading for the door. "But as you're sure to remind me every year, this day comes but once upon the year." Thor fallowed suit, puffing his candle out as he did so. He would have also tended to the fire, had the last bit of coal had not burned out hours prior.

Odin was prepared to bid Thor a good night and retire to his home when the boy stopped him.

"Yes, Thor? What can I do for you?" a perfectly normal question, but the way Odin chose to say was enough to kill off the merriest of spirits dead upon their tracks. His son though, had grown to become immune to his father's dead-cold words. Mind you, he knew better then to ever show it to his father's face, which was also his employer, and thus his soul mean of income, which much to his growing sadness, was hardly ever enough. Still, Thor was feeling like showing that bit of cheekiness his father has long since tried to "cure him" of.

If only once a year.

"Sir… _Father_" Thor was pleased to note his father appeared to cringe at the use of that familiar term. "As you must probably know, tomorrow's Christmas."

"And what of it?" Odin asked, eyes cold, posture rigid.

The mirth did not leave his son's face at the unfeeling words, though his eyes had taken a sad, almost disappointed, if not even _revolted _glow to them.

"It means, father dear, that as it had become customary in the last couple of years, I wish to extend my invitation for a home-cooked Christmas dinner. With us. Back home."

"And as it had become customary for me in the last couple of years, I will hastily decline."

"You have forgotten about the part where it has become customary for you to mock Jane and I's financial income and observe over Loki's 'uselessness as a living creature', thus also expressing your distance for ever needing to be in our presence for more than absolute necessary. But we still welcome you. It is, after all, Christmas. And family should always be together on Christmas. And we all agree that living of merely bread and cheese does little for your health, father." Thor completed his speech in a most triumphal manner, earning a very odd look from Odin, just before the old man found the answer to his unvoiced dilemma.

"Such grand wording coming from you, Thor, my boy… Wording which I know you are incapable of coming up on your own. Tell me: has Jane forced you to memorize the words back home, or has Loki written them for you upon a piece of paper so you may practice while I wasn't looking?"

Thor's booming laughter seemed so extraordinary for the normally grin rooms that Odin could not help the stare.

"A bit of both in fact, father." Thor replied. "You know us far too well."

"I know you more then I should." Odin returned. "This is even worse than last year's _demand._"

Thor shrugged. "Loki was under the impression that my natural charm should have sufficed."

"Further proof of what a fool he is."

"Father!" cried Thor, now virtually revolted. "I will just not stand and hear you treat your youngest son with such disrespect!"

"You will very well do so as long as you are in my employment!" his father roared, now standing to his full height. He was not a man who could be considered taller than Thor - yet very few where those who could be considered taller than Thor – but Odin was a man whom most would consider "larger than life". As a former man of arms, old man Odin lived through very hard times from which he had emerged victorious and even in his old days traces of that youthful strength could still be found within him. That combined with his current state of mind made the words he uttered sound more than just menacing. They were a threat, one which Thor, of warrior blood himself, was able to catch.

Wisely enough, the younger of the two stepped back. "If you ever change your mind, _sir_… you still know where to find us. Not that long ago you used to call that house your _home_."

With that, he was gone… off to join some street urchins on their merry sliding off the ice, rough voice booming in delight. Odin grumbled again, shaking his head

"May I be saved from mindless simpletons."

Promising himself he will not pay the lad any more mind, Odin took a rather melancholy dinner in one melancholy tavern (and no, he was _not _taking anything his _clerk _said to heart); and having read all the newspapers of the day he went home to bed. Or better said, he went to the house to bed, for as I had mentioned previously Odin had yet to really think of Laufey's old house as "home" quite yet. But alas, the hour was growing late, and off to bed he needed be. Still, while struggling with his keys, he noticed something oddly peculiar about the knocker on the door. Mind, Odin knew the house far better than even old Laufey probably did, and has gazed upon the knocker countless times before. Yet now, while he looked at it…

It was Laufey's face! As blue and wrinkly as it always had been. And those red eyes were watching Odin with that accusatory air to them… it was unreal!

Odin blinked, and in an instant, the knocker went back to being a knocker.

"... A trick of the eye."

Still, to say that he was not startled would be untrue. But the moment had passed and as he comes to notice everything was as it should be. So with that in mind, Odin put his hand upon the key he had relinquished, turned it sturdily, walked in, and lighted his candle. He was probably just weary from the long day and his brief dispute with his son. He was no longer as young as he used to – far cry from it in fact – so he probably just needed a good night's sleep for everything to be right again. Yet upon reaching his bedchambers, he has yet to feel any ease. If anything, he feels even wearier of his surroundings. Instincts from long ago came back to him, warning him that something was amiss. His one eye came to search the house with all the experience of a former warrior.

Sitting-room, bed-room, lumber-room. All as they should be. Nobody under the table, nobody under the sofa… Fire-place as usual. Slippers, nightgown – all at their place. The house was empty and quiet. Not even a mouse dared disturb its eerie silence. Nobody save for Odin was in the house. Still, years of experience did not let him drop his guard.

He took a seat near the fire he just lid, now fully clothed in his nightgown. For a moment, he just listened to the sound of fire-wood cracking, glass of sherry laying much forgotten at the side of his chair. Almost unwillingly, his eye jumped from the flames to the pictures lined upon the mantle, pictures which showed him a much younger him, surrounded by merry faces. There was a lady in almost every picture, a lady whose smile seamed to glow even in the dimness of the light. She smiled as she was playing with two boys, she smiled on the swing and she smiled in her wedding gown. The lady smiled... and Odin ran to the mantle to knock the pictures off of it.

The clock which fell from upon the mantel together with the pictures struck twelve. A day had reached its end while another began anew. It was Christmas day...

... and the fire burned out.

Odin, who until now had tried to get his breath under control, shove old pains aside to take notice of the strangeness of the events. Newly-lid fires did not just burn out all out of the blue like thus. And speak of the blue... Asgardian rooms did not also take on the look of those of Jotunheim even if their former owner was a Jotun. Especially when that former owner was dead for well over seven years.

Odin instantly knew that someone else was in the room with him. He could feel it in his bones... and he knew that presence well. His fists clenched and Odin tried to focus. The figure was walking towards him, coming closer and closer... and closer...

"You must come to understand, my friend..." Odin said, not yet turning towards his visitor. "You must understand that I am not a man to believe in ghosts." The footing stopped and silence took hold of the little room once more. But then...

"What do you believe in then, Odin?"

With reflexes any young man today would be invidious of, Odin called upon the magic he had not called forth in years and fired at the intruder. Had the man been living, the blast would have killed him instantly. But alas, the door was the one which took on the damage, for Laufey was dead... and grinning at the old man.

"I see your aim still rings true." The figure said. Odin stood his ground. "Peace, my friend, for I do not seek your harm. I haven't done so for years, why should I start now. It is not like I can gain anything from your death... in death." Chuckling at his own strange joke, the figure glided over to the chair Odin vacated, apparently making a show out of inspecting the rooms.

All the while Odin took in every detail of this visitor of his.

Everything of the figure spoke of Laufey: the same narrow red eyes, the same blue skin, the same strange markings, the same iciness to him, the same clothes, the same humongous high of him! He spoke like Laufey, watched him like Loufey, chuckled like Laufey and walked like Laufey, though Odin took to notice quite early on that the figure's feet did not quite touch the ground and could swear that he could see _though him_.

"You seem to doubt your senses, old man." The apparition stated.

"Indeed I do."

"Why is that?"

"Because so very little things can affect them. I might have taken ill to my stomach and you're the result of it. Or, for all I know, weariness had taken its hold on me quite early on and you are nothing save a bad dream."

The figure laughed. "Would you want me to pinch you? Convince you that you are not asleep?"

"I would rather you not."

The figure continued to laugh. "Oh, Odin, and to think there were times I wondered why I made you my partner... You never cease to amuse me, old man. Oh, and I knew I did the right thing when I left you the house. It looks even colder and more dismal then it did when I was alive. And this is coming from a Jotun, Odin. You should feel proud."

"Forgive me if I will refrain from doing so."

"Understandable. Aesir people rarely take kindly to Jotun compliments. Most say that we are far too different... but I found I had no qualms with you while in life."

"Though our blades did seem to seek each other on the battlefield..."

Memories of war came to Odin's mind - memories of the times when Asgard and Jotunheim were at war. Nobody remembers who fired the first shot, but the outcome had come with a heavy price. Both sides had lost more men then a mother should ever be aware of, and much too many children had been orphaned. At long last, peace was set between the two realms, for as different as the people of the two were, they all bled and had families to mourn their death.

It was on this war that Odin had met Laufey.

"Indeed they did." The specter agreed. "You were... general, I recall?"

"As were you." Odin added. "But we both see how much that helped us."

The look on the specter's face was one of mischief as he nodded in approval. "But we still had it our way in the end, Odin old man." He took to his feet, which still did not touch the ground, and his eyes became set on the broken pictures lying by the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, the pictures took to the air, magically fixing themselves and returning, one by one, to the mantle. He appeared to watch the figures rather intently, one small child with black hair more than the rest.

"Indeed we did..." Odin agreed, for the silence which once would have been welcomed now seemed rather tiresome with the projection of his head business partner lingering by his mantle. Though Laufey's gesture puzzled him, and made him wonder...

"Aye, we did, Odin..." The specter said in turn, yet still not turning from the pictures. "A Jotun and an Aesir, working together... turning war into business. That was our business, was it not?"

_Weapon dealers._

"Indeed it was, Laufey." Odin did not pause to wonder why he was using his dead partner's name to address the figure. "Our firm is still the finest of weapon dealers in all of Asgard."

"Ours..." The figure repeated, now turning back to Odin. "Yes, _ours _indeed, for I did notice that my name has not left our name plank. You could have re-named it, but chose not to. I sometimes wonder why... Still thinking that you could put some blame upon my shoulders? Our profession is not what most people would call honorable, but then I remembered that your people's profession is that of war. All Aesir are born and raised for war."

Odin grumbled in agreement. That they were...

The specter continued. "You have done much for me, my friend. Though you did not look it, you have been good to me. You dared work with a Jotun whom you met in times of war. You helped me raise a firm in the heart of Asgard - the city of warriors!" The specter paused for a moment, and Odin felt like in the presence of a viper, ready at any moment to strike. "You kept my child safe." Odin said nothing. "And for that, I believed I would forever be in your debt. But tonight, Odin, I shall pay my debt, and maybe help myself a little bit as well."

The apparition walked backward from him; and at every step it took, the window raised itself a little, so that when the specter reached it, it was wide open. "Tonight, my old friend, you shall be visited by three Spirits. Take great heed of their words and keep in mind their learnings. It will help you greatly in the future."

Odin coked and eyebrow. This was... unexpected.

"I see you puzzled, old man." The figure teased. "Be not, for know that this is my payment for all your acts of kindness to me."With that, the specter floated out upon the bleak, dark night, leaving Odin alone to further puzzle upon his words.

In the end it struck him that in life Laufey gave Odin no reason to trust him.

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><p><em>Greetings to one and all and welcome to the madness which is this! Aye, a prompt on norsekink has caught my eye, it is Christmas time, my playlist consists of carols and I recently re-read A Christmas Carol (several times) so... why not? (Shut up school-work. Eat me alive at a later time.) Now, theoretically, this should have been a parody, but I can't seem to write humor to save my life, so I tried to settle for something as close to Dickens as possible with the obvious... erm... things which needed to be changed for this AU's characters not seem completely OOC. Thus... Odin does not say "humbug". Dickens himself is probably turning in his grave right now.<em>

_For those who wish to know, this is the prompt:_

_"_... I really don't want to know how my brain comes up with these insane ideas... really I don't. But Christmas is coming and that means sanity left for the North Pole.

Odin takes on the role of Scrooge, a powerful, rich business man, yet a very cold man. After his wife passed away due to illness he was torn by grief and slowly, but steady, he begun to estrange himself from his remaining family. Years later, he lives alone, his two sons long since moved out. The only one he knows news of is his eldest son, Thor, who much like Bob Cratchet works under him. As far as Odin was concerned, his son was merely an employee.

On every Christmas Eve though, Thor would invite him "home". Each year, Odin would refuse.

One year though, everything changed, for three ghosts decided to pay him a visit.

BONUS:  
>+ 10 points if the ghost of Christmas past would show him moments spent with his wife and sons, when they were still a family<br>+ 100 points if the ghost of Christmas present will show his two sons still living together and though poor, seem very happy still (Thor is still Thor, you know, and Loki is still Loki)  
>+ 1000 if Loki has the same illness his mother did when she died<br>+ THE FREAKING INTERNET AND MY SOUL IF THE SCENE WITH THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS FUTURE WILL BREAK MY HEART BEYOND REPAIR!"

... Yes, I have no life.

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><p><strong>MINI-CONTEST!<strong>

Question of the day: _Who will play the role of the Ghost of Christmas Past?_

Whoever gets this right will be able to pick a scene from this chapter to be illustrated. To give you a helping hand, I will mention that all the cats will consist of Thor characters. SO put your thinking caps on readers, win free art and_** REVIEW!**_


	2. The First of the Three Spirits

**Author now declares:** I hold no ownership over the quotations taken from Charles Dickens's _A Christmas Carol_ which is in public domain, nor do I claim ownership over _Thor. _This is written for the purpose of fan entertainment only.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>  
><strong>The First of the Three Spirits<br>**

Before he knew of what has happened, Odin found himself back in front of his fire. Nothing around him gave any indication that Laufey has been there that evening. The pictures were still on the mantle and the fire was neatly burning.

It was like waking from a dream.

He looked at the half-empty bottle of cherry lying at his side. The idea of laying off the drink came to mind just as the most surprising of things took place; for next Odin knew the clock on the mantel had struck for one o' clock in the morning. Light flashed up in the room upon the instant and Odin felt a hand upon his shoulder.

Blinded for the moment, Odin moved to remove the hand, but a warm, kind... and rather flamboyant (if one may use such a word to describe such a thing) voice called for peace.

"Easy there, my friend." The voice spoke and the light dimmed a little. "I seek you no harm. I assure you I get along with elders just as well as I do with maidens. Though, I presume we cannot hope for a bond quite as intimate..."

As Odin gathered his bearings, he could see a young face smiling up at him. The figure who had glowed that most heavenly glow was a lad, he noticed, and the lad was smiling at him. His attire looked quite like one fit for a prince, yet the armor indicated something less then exactly royal. Still, the lad was quite a charmer, that with those joyous blue eyes and sandy blond hair and the most radiant of smiles painted upon his features.

"Bless my soul..." The lad exclaimed upon coming closer to the mantle. "Now isn't that a lovely maiden!" He pointed at a picture "But oh... no, apparently a maiden no more. Pity. She does look most ravishing in that wedding gown... Say, old man, does she have a sister?"

"Who are you?" Odin asked, and the lad's lips twitted up in a most charming smile.

"Master Fandral the Dashing at your service, kind sir, if I am to go by the name reputation has earned me. But that is a tale for another time, for I take my profession with pride, and business should not mingle about with pleasure."

"Your profession?" Odin inquired.

"But of course, my dear sir!" the man whom called himself Fandral cried. "My job as the keeper to the gates of the Past. Namely, _your _past from what I came to understand." Odin was left baffled. This dream he was experiencing was quite unreal... "But come! The night is young and there is much to be seen, my friend. Come-come! Walk with me!"

Odin said not a word as the lad took his shoulder and guided them towards the window. The touch felt oddly real for this to be a dream...

"I do hope there are maidens in your past, my friend, or this night might be quite a long one for me. Oh, and a note of warning before we set off: we will be going through walls quite a lot, and I fully expect the others will be taking you on similar journeys, so best become accustomed to the sensation swiftly. We'll start with this wall right here." And he motioned at the window in front of them.

... _By Valhalla! _

Finding his voice and will of old, Odin voiced his protests with vigor, but the lad merely chuckled at his actions and before the old man was able to properly fight (read that as "attempt to murder"), they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist surrounding the city had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground. A cry of surprise died on Odin's lips as he gazed about him.

"You recognize the place?" The lad... nay... Spirit asked, eying the old man with an amused look on his face.

"Indeed I do... but how did you...?"

"Made a field appear out of seemingly nowhere?" Fandral laughed. "It goes with the trade, I hear, but to be honest, I never bothered to ask."

Odin watched him with suspicious eyes.

"I rather you just go with it and enjoy the ride. Think of this as a dream if it would make you feel better. See me as the result of a molded piece of bread and all this around you as too much cherry drank before bed." Fandral said with a wink and began walking. For a moment, Odin was unsure of what to do. He pinched himself yet could not feel pain. He probably truly was asleep and was soon to wake up. For now, he decided to follow the Spirit's counsel and treat it all as a dream.

For this could be nothing else save a dream.

This lane they were now walking on had long since ceased to exist. War had broken free upon these lands when he had still been young. Out of all he now saw, none still existed. Only memories...

"These -" The Spirit began "- are but shadows of the things that have been. Whomever you shall meet now will take no mind to us, nor should we ever consider they could."

Just as Odin was to question the Spirit upon that last remark two figures on horseback jumped from behind the trees. They were a boy and girl, barely of age and laughing all the way. The figures looked familiar to Odin - strangely familiar indeed...

The two came to a stop after a while, and as they dismounted, Odin finally caught a good glimpse at their faces. The lad was him! Young and joyous and flouring with life, both eyes still intact. Why, he didn't even grow a beard yet! And the girl which was with him... his heart nearly stopped.

The girl which rode along with him was Frigga.

"Frigg..." Old man Odin mouthed the name as he saw his younger self play with the love of his life in the snow.

The Spirit's attention was peaked at this. "You know this charming lady, I take it?"

Odin did not speak, could not speak, for words were of no need now. Know her? How could he not? Frigga, the one woman whom had stolen his heart with her recklessness on horseback and generosity, with her grace and kindness, with her passion for justice and love for him. Frigga: with hair of gold and smile brighter than the sun, whose laugh alone echoes clearer than that of silver bells... Frigga - his wife.

The scene which played in front of him was one he could not forget, yet one he had so easily forgotten. This had been the day he had proposed to Frigga, the day she said yes... the day before he set for war. And Frigga, good beautiful Frigga! His lady waited for him to return. She waited years. She stayed true. And when he came back, battered and one eye short, she hugged him and kissed every bit of skin she could catch.

His dear Frigga...

"I see love there." The Spirit commented.

"It was love..." Odin found himself confirming. "Though it has been so long..."

"Long enough to forget?"

"No. Never forget. I couldn't, no matter how hard I try."

"Ah..." The spirit said then, as if he could understand. "This reminds me of a story... Oh, don't be mad, my friend. It is a beautiful story. I heard it from a friend most dear to me and... The look on your face tells me you don't care much. My apologies. But my friend, may I be permitted to be bold enough to point out that while the pain must be great for you to try and forget about such a fair lady -"

"You are in no position to speak to me of pain."

"True, as you say but... When I look at this younger you, I see joy." The Spirit then turned to him as the images around them blurred. "Can you truly not tell me you wish to kill all that joy this woman has given you?"

The images around them then began clear, and Odin saw - what did saw? His past? His life? What can never be again?

The ghost has showed him everything - from their first parting to their wedding, all into their first Christmas together in their own house, which at the time was nothing more but a little cottage at the edge of the city, yet a house Odin was able to call "home" - only because Frigga made it so. The ghost had showed him Frigga pregnant with Thor, had showed him their first Christmas with baby Thor asking his father to play "horsy".

Frigga's laughs never sounded more beautiful...

The Spirit seemed to have heard his very thoughts, for Odin heard him say "Beautiful indeed. Would it not be a shame if such beauty would be forever forgotten? Forever gone? Dead to the world? Dead to you?"

"It is already dead." Odin observed.

The Spirit shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It appears very alive here."

Fendral showed him Thor grow up, now calling him "daddy" and Frigga "mommy". He showed him how, though they had few, their little family had so much. The spirit showed him that one Christmas when he brought Loki home, how Frigga had taken an instant liking to the dark-haired, green-eyed boy, how she said she understood and that she cared not the child was a Jotun, but she did cursed Laufey for abandoning such a small, precious child. Odin pointed out to her that as a Jotun a child as small as Loki had little chances of surviving till spring, that a predilection towards shape shifting helped him little. Frigga didn't care, for she will treasure the child as her own; will love him and care for him as a mother should. The Spirit showed him the Christmas Loki was old enough to magically decorate the tree and how proud Frigga was of him. The Spirit showed him when they were still playing in the snow together, Thor giving Loki piggy-back-rides and making snow angels in the snow along with Frigga. He saw how they danced and laughed and cried and sang and how everyone was happy. The Spirit showed him his family when they were still a family. The Spirit showed him love.

Odin never knew how lucky he was.

"Your lip is trembling," stated the Ghost. "And what is that upon your cheek?"

Odin muttered, with an unusual catching in his voice, that it was a pimple. The Ghost just smiled, yet his eyes grew melancholy.

He showed him Frigga bundled up in a quilt. Her boys were around her, catching onto evry word of the story she was telling them. And himself - he was seated in a corner, just watching. He remembered being quite tired that year.

"And then" she said. "The little boy asked the baker 'Would you buy my donkey?', but the baker turned them away, for Small One was much too small to be of use to him."

"Everyone is so mean!" Thor complained. "Small One would give it his best for them, if they would only give him a chance."

"They don't know that, Brother." Loki pointed out. "Little One looks small and old to them. They don't know Little One as the boy does."

Frigga chuckled. "Your little brother is wise, Thor. One must never judge another by his skin alone. See what these people have not in Small One and look much deeper." The story went on and Odin felt himself lulled by the warmth of her voice. Oh! how he almost forgot that voice - so calming, so soothing... He saw his children fall asleep, and saw Frigga watch them with happy eyes.

"We should get them in bed." Odin heard his younger self whisper to his wife. She just shook her head.

"Let them stay like this a little while longer." She whispered back. "I want to remember this moment..."

"My dear, you should be resting." Odin heard himself tell her. "The healer asked you not to strain yourself."

"Oh, honestly dearest, you worry too much. And what do healers know. They just tell me 'rest' and demand of me to take medicine which is far too expensive for our pockets. I am fine. And it's Christmas, dear husband. I couldn't let the boys go to bed without their story."

"A rather depressing one, Frigga dear."

"It was not! The children loved it."

"In the story the child lost his dearest friend, my dear. What can our boys learn from that? That they should abandon their companions without a thought?"

"No dear. That life will ask for partings and that we should accept that. And Small One will not be lost to him. He still left the boy with the memories and sometimes that is enough."

Odin remembered then that this was to be their last Christmas together.

A quiet sob escaped his lips and he tried to reach his love, if only this last time. Touch her, smell her, only feel her by his side. He reached out, but his hand grasped air. The moment was gone and Odin how gazed at another him. This one was older and wiser than the one from before, yet behind that lone eye Odin saw the seed of a burning passion for business had taken root, and knew it would be the seed which destroyed the now ill tree which was that of his family. On this Christmas he was very much alone, he noticed. Ah! He remembered that he and Thor had quarreled the day before, yet by the life of him he could not remember over what.

_"You are a vain, greedy, cruel boy!"_

_"And you are an old man and a fool!"_

It is strange how the mind works. Strange indeed, for somehow it knew which memories were important enough to preserve. He taught long and hard on this particular memory which displayed itself in front of him. He was alone, he remembered, for Thor was quite as easy to anger and as hard to forgive as Odin himself was. Both were much too proud to admit their wrongs and much too stubborn to ask forgiveness. Thor and Odin were a pair of fools who would never change.

Loki, on the other side, whom always seemed to take after his adoptive mother, changed greatly that year.

The quiet child from before grew even quieter, Odin remembered, but only now came to realize that his son's silence should have been a warning for them all. All the mischief which fallowed, the jokes, the

Loki was probably with him, attempting to make peace between the two family members. Loki had tried really hard to keep them together after Frigga passed away, but those attempts ceased that one Christmas when he was the one to begin a row.

He found out. Someway, Loki had found out about his Jotun heritage. Odin could have easily blame it on the weather when he saw his son show him blue fingers, for it had been colder than usual that year, but in fact, he had no-one to blame but himself. Looking from the outside in, he felt like hurting himself. Why could he not see how distressed his child was? How could he not see the pain this lie was causing his little trickster? Time and again both he and most of the town had accused Loki of being the liar, but his son's lies had never caused such pain.

_"You could have told me what I was from the beginning! Why didn't you?"_

_"You're my son... I wanted only to protect you from the truth..."_

_"What? Because I... I... I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?"_

_"No Loki."_

_"You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant as a son to a respectable former general and weapon merchant of Asgard!"_

Odin accused him of being a disrespectful whelp and of an unworthy creature of the love he and his mother had showed him. His don left him, and thus they parted. Odin longed to go after his, beg for his forgiveness. But the moment had passed and it was all too late.

"Spirit!" Odin cried "show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight in torturing me?"

"One shadow more!'' exclaimed the Ghost.

"No more!'' Odin pleaded. "No more. I don't wish to see it. Show me no more!''

But the relentless Ghost pinioned him in both his arms, and forced him to observe what happened next.

They were in another scene and place; a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. He saw a familiar figure of black raven-hair and troubled green eyes working about the room. Loki was older and his moves far slower than they had been. Eyes once so bright now seemed tired, but despite this all the lad looked quite contempt. A knock was heard on the door and Odin stood in pure surprise as Loki summoned his magic to let the stranger in. He knew Loki has always been gifted in the magical arts; even as a small child he had showed great potential, but to see him use it so idly was quite another matter. His surprise grew even greater when the one to enter the magically opened door was Thor.

"Merry Christmas, Thor." Loki said in greeting, yet his eyed had not searched out his brother's yet.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Brother."

A sigh. "Thor, I grow tired of contently reminding you that we are not brother."

"I will keep reminding you that I don't care that you are a Jotun, Loki." Thor stated with conviction. The younger of the two merely raised an eyebrow at the blond, silently challenging him to go on. "I mean... I know that was not the issue at first but... Loki, Brother, know that I am sorry. I have changed."

"So have I. Suddenly, I become your enemy with the first fall of snow."

"I am sorry brother... I was a fool and for that you have all right to shun me" Thor paused to swallow. "Brother... I... am truly sorry."

There was a long pause, time in which Odin could see the weals of Loki's mind spinning. He was considering something it seamed... At long last, he appeared to make up his mind for he waved his hand in one graceful manner and Thor suddenly found himself all blue.

"Loki? What have you done?"

"You say you understand. I want to see if that be true."

"Loki, this is not funny."

"Oh, but I find it quite hilarious."

"Loki! I came here to apologies!"

"And I still haven't forgiven you." Loki stated, though mischief could be heard in his voice. "But if you can last a day wearing my skin, I just might consider."

"That is cruel Loki!"

"Oh, so it's all 'Loki' now?"

"_Brother_! What if lady Jane sees me like this?"

"If she truly fancies you as much as you fancy her, I doubt she'd mind... much."

Thor lunged at his brother, and Loki most easily dodged. But it was all a tease "In light of the Festive Seasons" Loki had said "I will refrain from sliding your through." but Odin found no malice in his tone. Neither did Thor, for as soon as he was down, he was up again, now dead-set on tackling the slender man to the floor. The teasing continued for a while longer but by the end, both brothers ended up mock-wrestling and both laughing at their own silliness.

Odin watched them for what felt like eons. His two boys... all grown-up yet children still... Odin watched as they eventually crashed on the floor, back to back and breathing deeply.

"You are a worthy opponent, Brother." Thor commented. Loki laughed.

Loki nodded. "For a mindless brute you are not too bad yourself."

"Normally, such words ask of me to take offence."

"Then I have done my duty."

Thor's booming laughter was what had fallowed and Odin had noticed Loki failing to surpass some giggles of his own. But after a moment, all was calm again, the two brothers merely sitting on the floor, back to back, the room now in total disarray.

"Thor" Loki started, green eyes now fully taking in the state of the room. "I do believe my employers will sack me for this one."

Thor, now seeing for himself the damage they have caused, was forced to agree. "I am sorry Loki."

A laugh. "Is that all you have to say to me today?"

"Well, what else could I say?"

"Tell me that the sky turned pink! Tell me grandma Sif finally found a poor soul to call a husband. Just don't tell me you are sorry. T'is far too strange a word coming from the likes of you."

Thor laughed and Odin surprised himself when he too let out a chuckle. The mirth was quite despite himself, for seeing his children so made him feel like something in his chest was breaking.

"I saw father today."

Odin gasped, for he saw how the mere mention of him seemed to suck all the happiness of the chamber. The boys were still smiling, yet their heart was not quite there. Thor continued.

"I passed his office window; he stays there till odd hours now, I see, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. He sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.''

"His _partner_ lies upon the verge of death, I hear." Loki supplies, and Odin cannot help but cringe. Had the damage been that great?

The look at the pure hatred in Loki's green eyes was all he needed.

"Spirit!'' Odin said in a broken voice, "remove me from this place.''

"I told you: these were shadows of the things that have been,'' said the Ghost. "That they are what they are, do not blame me!''

"Remove me!'' Odin exclaimed, "I cannot bear it any longer!''

He turned upon the Ghost, and seeing that it looked upon him with a face, in which in some strange way there were fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it.

"Leave me! Take me back! TAKE ME BACK!''

No sooner had the last word left his mouth that Odin found himself back at his room, as alone as he had been for years. Eyes now blurred by tears, he turned to look at the pictures on the mantle. Joyous faces smiled at him and Odin could not believe what a fool he had been. He picked a picture of his two boys when they were still quite the little dwarfs and no longer could keep the tears from falling. Vision now gone, he let his thumb traced the frame with care, for truly, what more could he do?

Frigga's death did not drive their family apart. He did... and he might not ever get it back again...

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><p><em>Yes, as you can see, depression and me seem to go hand in hand. The reason why I seem to sway such a long way away from the original story is simple: Odin has a family. Though in theory both Scrooge and Odin are the same in this universe, the difference lies that the way they got there was completely different, so I tried to play with that. Also, Dickens is surely turning in his grave by now.<em>

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><p><strong>MINI-CONTEST!<br>**Alas, nobody guessed quite right last chapter's question, but fear not, the art will come nonetheless. In the meanwhile, let us try it again. Rules are the same as last time. So, stop, review and win a free-ish picture!**  
><strong>

Question of the day: _What story is the one Frigga tells the boys and where is it from?_


	3. The Second of the Three Spirits

**Author now declares:** I hold no ownership over the quotations taken from Charles Dickens's _A Christmas Carol_ which is in public domain, nor do I claim ownership over _Thor. _This is written for the purpose of fan entertainment only.

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><p><strong>Chapter <strong>  
><strong>The Second of the Three Spirits<strong>

Odin sat in his chair by the fire. He did not bother to seek his bed, for he knew sleep would no claim him that night. The picture of his family sat cradled on his lap, and the old men's thoughts were those of what could have been...

Ne knew not if these apparitions were true. He could just as easily be losing his mind. But he could not doubt his memories nor could he ignore the painful sting within his breast. And now, almost like in a dream, he could hear the clock upon the mantle strike the hour.

He knew it was time.

He got to his feet and made about the room, waiting for the apparition he knew must come. Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing. Especially not the smell of turkey and pudding assaulting his senses! His eye looked about the room and was surprised to see light coming from the other room. With all the grace and air of pride he still had, Odin approached it. A part of his mind told him that the door should, by all means, lay shattered upon the floor. But as he turned the knob all thought lost him.

The room had taken an unearthly glow. Its walls were covered in gold worthy of the very thrown room of Asgard. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and upon the table laid a feast worthy of four Kings. A figure danced around the table - quite a giant he was, almost a head taller than Odin himself - and paused to pick up treats to feast upon. He wore garments similar to those of the other ghost, yet the red hair and stuffy beard made him seem to come from another time. The ghost spotted him, and motioned for him to come near.

"Come in!" He boomed. "And know me better man!"

Odin entered timidly, though with each step he took gave him strength. The Ghost simply glowed with kindness and Odin felt intoxicated by the feeling of constant warmth and joy and peace he seemed to find in the ghost's mere presence.

"Are you one of the spirits whose coming was foretold to me?" Odin asked and the Spirit laughed.

"I may, or I may be not. You will have to be the judge of that, my little friend. Oh, you mind not that I call you 'little', do you? For compared to me, quite many seem quite little indeed." Odin could not help the chuckle. "I hear Fandral visited you already. Nice chap, that lad, but he has too much a flair for the dramatic, the little tease. But I believe he needs to show a fair face for the ladies. Quite the heartbreaker, that man." Odin was forced to agree, though was left rather surprised to know Ghost seem to partake in the teasing of their kin. That is, if Ghosts could be considered as kin.

"Ah..." The Ghost exclaimed. "Caramel! And of the tasty kind as well! But of course, for everything is quite delightful at Christmas. Haven't you noticed?"

No, he did not, and said so to the Ghost.

"Pity." The Ghost murmured. "Personally, I find the whole experience most thrilling. The feasts, the food, the banquettes, the stories, the games, the treats, the songs, the dances, the mead, the wine!" This one certainly had quite the apatite. "Here's to you, my little friend! To your health." The Ghost cried while lifting a goblet of wine and draining it to the last drop.

"I do believe I haven't met anybody like you before, sir." Odin confessed in earnest, which caused the one to whom the words were addressed to chuckle.

"Well my friend, as Midgardians tend to say, you've probably been living under a rock till now. Matters not! Before this day is done, you will have seen and met enough!" The Ghost rose and the room about them seemed to disappear, and as the ghost took his shoulder, Odin found himself in another room, far poorer than those of Laufey's home, yet far richer at the same time. Oh, and Odin knew these walls; he knew them quite well. How could he not? For he had seen and re-seen them quite frequently this night, both with his eye and with his mind.

"This is my home..."

The carpet was the same, the table was the same - the room was the same. It even had the same musky smell to it! A fire was burning in the heart, casting a calming glow over the room. The furniture had been moved slightly about the room, but most was left intact. He almost believed the Spirit made a mistake. Surely, he could see no more here. Could he?

"Spirit?" Odin questioned. "Why did you bring me here?"

The Spirit chuckled. "Call me Volstagg, friend. And I have brought you here because, well, when you say Christmas I can only think of family. Oh, and feasts, of course, but I doubt you are quite as fond of those as I. Oh! Is that goose I smell?"

The Spirit - Volstagg he asked to be called - darted towards the door Odin knew lead to the kitchen. Hesitantly, Odin fallowed him to the room, where he found a lovely lady tending to a delicious smelling goose, but a meager bird in size. The lady was a pretty creature, of dark hair and merry eyes, dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown. Odin recognized her as Jane, his eldest son's wife. He had met her a few times before. The first, he believe, was at their wedding. A child was at her side and an energetic bundle of youth was this girl! Blessed with the dark hair of her mother and the brilliantly blue eyes of her father, she was sure to grow into a most charming lady. But all of her cried of mischief, much like Loki did at her age, and Odin knew not if this was to be a good sign.

"Sif, dear, I agreed to let you stay up late this night _only _so you may help me with the preparations for Christmas. _Not _to have you hop about me like some rabbit."

"But it's Christmas, mama!" The child's voice carried a pout, and Odin estimated that she could be no older than four or five.

_Had it truly been this long? _

"Wrong, my dear. We still have one more sleep to go till Christmas. Now, go and get your father to put more logs on the fire. Your uncle is due to arrive any moment now and I will not have him say we are poor hosts." With a happy cry, the girl darted off towards the kitchen's back door, pausing only briefly to pit a coat on her as she did so.

All this time, Volstagg appeared to be entertaining himself with some fruit. Odin shot him a look as a grape was this close to being eaten. Volstagg blushed scarlet and placed the bit of bruit back at its place.

Soon enough though the child returned with her father in tow, firewood and all, and Jane was resisting the urge to scold at them both.

"Missed me already, my love?" Thor teased his wife, eying her in a suggestive manner. The reward for his cheek was a playful smack on his behind.

"Enough of your games, husband mine, and tend to the fires."

A laugh. "Yes, dear mistress."

Odin watched the family doing its thing, tending to one matter or another, yet as small as the task the dedication was great. There was this note of joyfulness in the air about them, Odin noted to the ghost, who nodded as he made himself comfortable in a sitting chair by the heart. It was a remarkable quality of the Ghost, that notwithstanding his gigantic size, he could accommodate himself to any place with ease. Odin felt quite jealous at this point, for he could not quite find his place within the room. Though the learned quite early on that people could not see nor hear nor feel him - that they could walk right through him - he still much like the uninvited guest.

Suddenly, a knock came from the door and little Sif practically flew over to it before ether of her parents had the merest chance to blink.

"Hello!" The child said to the figure from beyond the door. A gruffly "ho-ho-ho" came from this stranger whom now made himself visible to the rest of the family, covered all in a long cloak and gray beard which covered most of his face.

"Why, merry Christmas to thee', lass! Has thou been naughty or nice this year?" the figure asked, and Odin now saw two green eyes sparkle with mirth as the child could barely withhold her own.

"Good, sir! Sif has been good!"

"Quite a shame... Mischief would have suited you bett-" the stranger stopped his sentence short, for a nasty caught had taken hold of him. "Damn this old beard!" The figure commented, though his voice now was one Odin also knew quite well. The child did too, for she had tackled the figure in a hug only small children were capable of!

"Uncle Loki!" Sif cried and Loki removed the fake beard to properly laugh at his niece's antics. The child seemed to sober out of her mirth for a moment, for she had detached herself from around Loki's torso, now eying him with a serious look in her young eyes. "Why are you dressed as Father Christmas?"

The adults laughed wholeheartedly at the child's most serious question but they sobered quickly enough. Loki leaned down and in a sly manner mentioned for Sif to come closer, as if the greatest of secrets were to be revealed to her.

"Tell no-one, Sif" Loki said "For no-one must know. You see, I met Father Christmas." Sif gasped. "Yes I did. And do you know what he said to me?" Sif shock her head. "He told me 'Loki, I have many a' children I must visit tonight, and I fear little Sif might miss me till time comes for me to visit her. But to show her that I have not forsaken her, will you give her this tree for me? '"

"Tree?" Sif questioned and dashed out. "Tree!" she now cried in delight, for low and behold indeed there was a tree out there. A most beautiful, yet not incredibly tall, evergreen tree lay on the side of the house.

Sif tackled her uncle a second time, words of thanks never ceasing from slipping from her tongue. By their side, Thor was booming with laughter.

"Brother, you indeed have outdone yourself!" The eldest of the two brothers declared. Loki did not appear at all modest about it.

"Oh Loki!" Jane herself cried and gave her brother-in-law a brief hug herself and secured a kiss upon his cheek. "You wonderful, wonderful man! However did you find such a beauty?"

"Father Christmas gave it to him!" Sif helpfully supplied, but Loki shushed her gently. Remembering herself, Sif gasped and crossed her lips - she was saying nothing. Instead, she now took to fallowing her father, tree and all, in the sitting-room.

Still chuckling, Jane turned back to her brother-in-law. "Well, Silvertongue?" She tried again, using the name Loki had long since earned in life in good humor. "How ever did you manage this miracle?"

Loki forged innocence. "I? What miracle do you accuse me of?"

"Come now, trickster! Share thou secrets. For your dear ol' sister-in-law knows for a fact that upon leaving the house this morning you had little more than a shilling in your pocket. And now you return with a tree which by all means must have cost you several hundred!"

"Oh, that. Well, simple - I collected my pay." Jane watched him with knowing eyes. "And I might have, erm... persuaded the salesman to offer me a reduction on the price." Jane laughed and from his spot Odin felt something warm growing inside of him. It felt like pride.

"Oh, you sly fox you!" Jane cried as she lightly punched him in shoulder. "But come. I have a light supper saved for you. Nothing fancy though, but just the right amount for my favorite brother in law."

"Your only one."

"Hush, or this is the last time I'm saving desert."

Loki's eyes seem to _sparkle_. "I do hope there's pudding, sister dear."

Jane laughed as she helped him in. Oh, how much laughter could this family give! Still, Odin found the woman's gesture odd, for he could not, for the life of him, imagine his son accepting such. His son was much too proud. But that was before he saw the way in which he seemed to simply drag his legs across the floor, lacking much of the cat-like grace he knew he had.

"Mama! Uncle Loki! Look!" Sif cried, gesturing towards the evergreen. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Odin too, glanced at the tree. Thor was fixing it in place and Jane soon took to voicing her taught on its beauty. For indeed, it was quite a handsome tree. The old man then turned to watch his youngest son, whom suddenly appeared to keep to himself.

He found it… particularly challenging to describe his son that night. Everything about him spoke of tranquility, but there was also this weariness to him which he couldn't quite explain.

"Brother," Thor said "I do believe this is one is the most handsome tree we ever had! I sure hope you will be here tomorrow to see it properly."

Jane gasped. "Oh dear, of course! How could I forget? Loki, do tell me old Odin let you have the day off."

... _What?_

Odin was sure he heard wrong. But Volstagg's merry laughter made him doubt that certainness.

"Forgive me, my little friend, but your face! Hahaha! Dear me, one would say you never knew."

"Knew? You mean this is true?"

The ghost needn't confirm, for Loki soon changes his appearance to that of his brother, and as he spoke in a voice so similar to that of his brother's the room erupted in laughter.

"Of course, when you happen to pull the Thor 'I-was-a-golden-retriever-in-a-past-life' look even cold, old Odin can't resist." And as the trickster morphed back into his own skin, one taught alone was flying about Odin's mind.

_You are so fired._

"Before you ask, my little friend," Volstagg said "yes, Master Loki has always served as your clerk. As far as I know, Thor never applied for the position. Or at least that's what a little bird told me."

Odin grumbled. "Why the charade?"

"Well, because he knew you would never hire him otherwise, of course. And as you probably see, the family needed a course of income."

Indeed. Two grown men, a woman and a child...

"I pay Thor - I mean Loki - such a small amount." The words came out almost without his notice. "How ever do they manage?"

"Oh, your eldest son will at times also take on some jobs and bring a penny or two home, and Jane herself applied for a teacher position. She's quite a smart one, that Midgardian lady. But mostly I think it's because your youngest knows how to handle money wisely. Somehow, they always seem to have food on the table." The Spirit finished, now taking out a sour grape out of his heard and munching on it.

Suddenly, Loki was coughing, and these coughs shock his body like the wind does a falling leaf. Jane put her arms around him in an instant, keeping him from falling to the side, for Odin was sure he would have done do. He never noticed when he too approached Loki and tried to catch the lad himself. His hand went right through his son.

"Come Loki, let's get you seated. I do believe you had quite enough excitement for the day." Jane instructed and with slow, steady steps, led her brother-in-law in the den to sit upon the chair nearest to the heart. All this time her hands held him tightly. Loki's violent coughs were not ceasing. Jane instructed him to breath and barked for Thor to bring him water.

Odin did not know what to do.

Once seated though, Loki's breath seemed to return to normal. He breathed a sigh and offered his excuses as well as thanks to his sister, both which were dismissed without a thought by the Midgardian. Thor soon returned with water, which Loki accepted and the glass in which it came was drowned instantly.

"Much better." Loki said as he placed the glass aside.

"All fine again, Brother?" Thor questioned, placing a hand upon the dark haired man's shoulder.

Loki appeared annoyed. "I said all was better, did I not? Now go and tend to the bird before the house catches fire!"

It was Jane who spoke now. "Whatever do you me- Oh no! Thor! The goose! Come with me, man!" With the sound of Loki's tired laughter as their stage music, husband and wife put on quite the show of trying to save the goose from becoming completely uneatable the following day.

"Aww… T'is quite the shame. I never had the change to steal a bite…" Odin heard Volstagg complain, but the old man's attention laid elsewhere.

Truly looking now, Odin could see the dark rings under his youngest son's eyes; see the paleness of his skin and the sunken cheeks. As he took off the gloves which protected nearly-blue hands, the old man also took notice of just how skinny his boy now was. He knew that of his two sons, Loki had always been the slenderest of them, but that hand which was now playing with the empty water glass could not belong to a healthy man.

"Spirit... Volstagg..." Odin called and the Spirit was at his side in an instant. "What is wrong with my boy?"

Volstagg didn't quite laugh at the old man's question. Not in his usual laugh at least. Did Odin detect a hint of sadness in that sound the Spirit gave? "I do believe you have not called him thus for years."

Volstagg has made his point quite clear, but the dread Odin felt had taken root within his heart gave him courage to ask again. This time also adding "Please, I need to know."

For a moment, the Spirit said not a word, leaving Odin to gaze at his tired son. He seemed of peace now, but the gaze those green eyes held was one he remembered with a heave heart. That look Odin had seen in another pair of eyes, a pair of eyes he had loved far greater than anything of this world.

A sigh and the spirit spoke. "Well, t'is hard to say what is wrong and what is not with this one. But I see a vacant seat by the fire and laughter of less joy then that of now about this house if these shadows remain unaltered."

For once Odin wished he couldn't understand another's words. He tried to tell himself that he heard wrong "Speak not in riddles to me, Spirit, I bed you!"

"I speak not in riddled, my little friend. I only speak in truth. Had you not wished to learn of it, you should not have asked of it."

Odin had nothing to say to that.

"Oh!" Exclaimed the Ghost. "Look at little Sif!"

The child approached her uncle cautiously as Thor and Jane made haste with dinner. She tugged on his cloak and asked if he was well. The man smiled and said that all was well, that he was merely a little tired, was all. Sif gazed at him with grave eyes just for a moment, before she suddenly decided to scramble up into his lap. Loki laughed and helped her up.

"My niece is quite the little monkey, isn't she?"

"Am not!" She protested.

"Oh, are so!" Sif's laughs accompanied his own as the man playfully started to tickle her sides. She did so in return in her own act of playful vengeance and both were quite breathless from the laughter when Thor poke his head back in the room.

"What are you two tricksters doing? The hour is late and Sif is in need of sleep for Christmas morning. You plan not to steal the goose and replace it with carrots, do you?" He asked in jest. Loki put on a look a horror.

"You too, Brother?" Loki cried dramatically. "I am wounded by your words. To think, Sif! How easily your father accuses us of trickery." Sif mirrored her uncle's looks, which only added further to the humor. "It is if... he trusts us not!"

"No!" Sif cried and Thor did all he could to keep the mirth at bay.

"Never doubt my trust in you, my little tricksters!" Thor cried. "Yet I ask of thee your word that in your trickery you shall include my most humble self as well."

"Well then!" Loki cried. "We just might!"

Sif was nodding, but then frowning. "We will?" She was confused.

"Of course we will, Sif." Loki confirmed. "For we shall be in need of a donkey, you see. Though I fear your father is not all that fitted for the task. We need a small donkey, dear Sif, for in life he too was quite a small donkey." He waved a hand and magic sparkled about the room. The tree in the corner began to glow and upon its branches, a tiny donkey appeared. It shock its years once, cried twice, and Sif giggled with no pause as it started to move about.

"Once upon a time" Loki began "there was donkey they all called Small One, for you see dear Sif, the donkey was very small indeed..."

Odin watched mesmerized as his son said the tale of Small One. As his words progressed, the little donkey jumped from branch to branch, causing a globe or a candle to magically appear in its stead. Thor interfered from time to time to parade around the room as various characters came into the story and at some point Jane came back to watch in amusement how her husband did a most splendid imitation of a horse.

Volstagg was laughing wholeheartedly at the display and with each of his ha-ha-ha-s the room seemed to grow even warmer. Odin himself could feel the frost lifting itself from within him."Now that is what I call the Christmas spirit! What better way can you think of spending the holidays than with your family, knitting happy memories?"

Odin said nothing, for really, what could he say?

Soon Sif was asleep in Loki's lap. The clock showed it being way past three in the morning and even the adults began to show signs of fatigue. Honestly, where did that child hold all that energy? So with words of thanks for the trickster's brilliance, Jane relived Loki of his burden and set little Sif up to bed. The brothers were left to their own.

"Just you and me, now Brother... Loki, let's go break stuff!"

… The house would probably not survive.

"Yes, let us go throw ourselves into a tree, Thor. I am sure your wife will be oh so impressed by our maturity. But first, I do believe Father Christmas has a few more presents to give." Out of seemingly nowhere, Loki produced a very fluffy, very _pink _pony toy which he placed underneath the evergreen.

"... Brother? Why is that pony pink?"

"You do not question Pinkie Pie!"

The old man closed his eyes and Volstagg cried with laughter. Did Odin really want to know?

"I shall take your word for it. But speaking of horses -"

"Ponies." Loki corrected.

"...You chose a good story tonight, Brother." Thor finally said, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"I recall it being the last mother told us before... traditions had to be altered." _Always gifted with words, Loki..._ "And truth be spoken, the look you had when you came in reminded me greatly of a donkey."

"I?" Thor sounded scandalized.

"Quite so. You looked to be ether choking on your dinner or grinning like a horse. Somewhere in between that and we get a donkey, do we not?"

"Ha! Like you are one to speak, cow."

Odin really didn't want to know.

"T'was just the one time!" Loki said. "And I just made a visual projection of a donkey hop about the evergreen for the entertainment of your daughter Thor. Never doubt that I couldn't push myself just a little bit further and add some better ears upon your head."

"... Point taken." A pause. "Loki, I know the hours has grown too late for any dinner, but this evening we can still treat ourselves to a drop of wine... and a tad of pudding, maybe?"

"Pudding!" Loki cried much like a child, and Thor boomed with laughter. Alas, Loki's ridiculous love for pudding shall never change.

Odin cried and laughed at the same time. He saw Loki devour the pudding he and Thor shared for the night, saw his two sons sing carols and mock-dance to their own music, saw how Loki did not move quite right on those shaky feet and saw them prepare a toast.

"A toast, Brother." Thor called, lifting his glass. "A toast to health, a toast to Christmas!"

"And a toast to father." Loki supplied. "Whom in his own twisted way provided us with wine and pudding."

Odin stood speechless, for he could not believe his ears. He saw his sons toast and drink of their wine. He saw his oldest, whom savored every drop, saw his youngest, son not of blood but of choice, drink with grater care, but drink with all his heart. How could they...

"Speaking of which... Father is not coming for dinner this year either." Loki's announcement and the sad tone he used as he spoke broke Odin's heart.

"If next year it will be the same, I swear to you brother I will kidnap him from that dreaded house myself." Thor promised and Loki's lips twitched upwards just a bit. "Or better yet, I could do so right now." He even made a move to get up.

"Sit back down you great oaf. You know father doesn't do what he doesn't want. And in your failure it is I who gets sacked."

"Actually... that be I."

"Thor, do not start. You have no idea how _painful _it is to add in all those errors into the accounts. You owe me the moon. Which reminds me... how's the job hunting going?"

"Erm... it is... going..."

"Thor, remind me why I'm not strangling you yet."

The room darkened bit by bit, till Odin could see nothing more of it. He wished to see more. He didn't want to let go, but the shadow reminded him that they were mere shadows.

"Consider this a dream, my little friend."

"I cannot." Odin confessed. "I cannot presume to see this all a dream."

In the distance, church bells began to strike the hour. One, two, three...

"Then my work upon this world is done, my little friend. I could have showed you many more things, but you seemed to need this visit more than any Christmas spent in the household of a baker of a fish merchant or even of a miner. Hogun will care for you now. He may be quite grim, as his reputation quite states, but he will teach you much."

... ten, eleven...

"Keep close to him friend, and listen well. Upon my soul, know him better, man!"

Twelve - and the bell struck no more.

Odin looked about him for the Ghost, and saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the words of Laufey, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him. Hogun the Grim.

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><p><em>This chapter was a joy to write. Having Loki and Thor simply being there was quite a pleasant experience for me. But of course, Loki stole the whole show. As always. And yes, Thor's first child is a girl named Sif, because I can make it happen. Also, after Crazy Laughter pointed out how un-Thor-is it is for Thor to be a clerk at his dad's firm, of course I had to add in this perfectly pointless (or is it) twist. Because let's face it, if anyone is bringing any money home, that would be Loki. <em>

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><p><strong>MINI-CONTEST!<br>**Last chapter's "Question of the day" winner is riren who recognized Disney's Small One short as the story Frigga told her children. And now, onward towards the next question, and I wish you all good health and peace of mind till our next update.

Question of the day: _Can you spot all the references used in this chapter?  
><em>


	4. The Last of the Three Spirits

**Author now declares:** I hold no ownership over the quotations taken from Charles Dickens's _A Christmas Carol_ which is in public domain, nor do I claim ownership over _Thor. _This is written for the purpose of fan entertainment only.

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>  
><strong>The Last of the Three Spirits<strong>

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. Odin took note of its gloomy nature, took note of the deep black garment the Phantom covered himself in and how easily it had him blend into the darkness.

"I am in the presence of the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come, am I not?" Odin asked. The Phantom nodded. "You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,'' Odin pursued. "Is that not so, Spirit?''

The figure covered its head in the fabric which seemed to make him be one with night, leaving but an outstretched hand as Odin's only guide in the shadows as the Phantom slowly mentioned for him to follow. Odin complied and together they had seen a Christmas far less joyous than the ones he had come to see before.

The Phantom showed him cruel men speak of another's death with such distaste Odin felt his blood go cold.

"What I'd like to know though is what became of all his money. He sure didn't give them to me now, did he?" Laughter accompanied that last statement.

"I hear the old man had some kids out there somewhere. Does it not go to them?" Another inquired.

"Probably, but if your da' happened to have been this one, would _you _want to have anything more to do with him?"

"Well, I could never quite say 'no' to an extra pound in my pocket."

The Ghost had showed him another side of man Odin was much aware of, yet never could quite gaze upon it with unclouded eyes. He found that now as that veil which deceived his eyes was no longer set in place, he could understand. He watched those man speak ill of the poor soul, as well as the scavengers make do with what he presumed were the last of a dead man's earthly possessions, and Odin could not help but understand that it was wrong.

He found, most oddly, that he was sorry for this man whom he knew not by name or shape. But this man, whom was dead this Christmas day... The man must have had a family, no? He must have had a person out there to mourn his death. Those men spoke of children... He just... must have had someone. No?

He felt a strong urge to see his sons.

Odin turned to the Phantom which till now had not spoken a word. "I fear you more than any specter I have seen. But all you've showed me thus far made me realize that you seek only my own good fortune. I can see now, for you tell me with no words that this poor man's fate can be my own. But if I have learned one thing from your brothers is that one's value is set not by himself, but by the people around him... which is why kind Spirit, I need to know..."

_"... I see a vacant seat by the fire and laughter of less joy then that of now about this house..."_

"... I need to know Spirit. What has come of my sons?" Odin pleaded, for indeed it was a plea. The dead man un-mourned by kin, the scavengers and men whom spoke of a man's death with so much ignorance - somehow, he knew that this was to be more than just a fate Odin could suffer, but one he _would_. He was not as vain as to believe that he was immortal. He was already an old man; to die and join his beloved Frigga in the afterlife would be a blessing. Death will come for him one day, Odin knew, and he embraced his fate. It was as it should be. Yet still, as a father, he needed to know...

_"... a vacant seat by the fire..."_

The Phantom took him to the little cottage him and Frigga made home and Odin's lips almost formed a smile. But his years picked on the sound of silence, and worry came to him. Where was the laughter? Where was the sound of little Sif's giggles? Of Thor's booming voice? Where was Jane with her scoldings or Loki with his quick remarks?

_"... laughter of less joy then that of now about this house..."_

_No._

He shot from the Phantom's side ad went right through the door. The magic of walking through walls was no longer new to him.

He found the mother and young Sif by the fire. They were waiting, it seemed, for none busied themselves with anything.

Sif held a little pink pony doll in her hands, silently playing with its mane. Odin then caught sound. Sif seemed to be humming a song. But then the words took shape, and Odin recognized it.

"God rest ye merry, gentlemen  
>Let nothing you dismay<br>Remember, Christ, our Savior  
>Was born on Christmas day<br>To save us all from Satan's power  
>When we were gone astray<p>

O tidings of comfort and joy,  
>Comfort and joy<br>O tidings of comfort and joy."

Jane then rose to her feet and paced the space in front of the fireplace. Had the situation been a different one, Odin would have noticed that the dress she wore was far nicer than the one he saw her in last. But alas - now he saw not the dress, but the stray tears which rolled about on her cheeks.

"Mama?" Little Sif asked. "Why are you crying?"

Such a simple question, but one Odin himself dreaded to hear the answer to. He saw Jane brush the tears away, attempting to smile for her child.

"I am not crying dear. It's just that... my eyes grow week in the dim light as if of late. I fear... I may need myself a pair of eye-glasses soon."

Eye-glasses? But... _Oh no..._

Odin ran from the two, searching wildly for a sign, a lie - any kind of indication which would nullify his fears. But all he saw only made the dread grow further within him. There was no Christmas tree this year, he noticed, nor was the goose roasting on the fire. Odin feared the worse when his thoughts were interrupted by a loud caught which came from upstairs. With a heavy heart, he slowly took the stairs to the source of it. He followed the sound, the Phantom now forgotten, and saw but one open door, from which week candlelight came through. He hesitated in entering for but a moment, but as the coughs stopped, he found the courage to keep going. He needed to know.

Inside he saw Thor, seated on the edge of a bed upon which laid a long, black form with a snow-white face. Its chest was rising and falling slightly, tiredly, and Odin recognized him.

It was Loki.

"No..." the sound escaped Odin's lips without his notice. Volstagg's words came back to haunt him, and Odin came closer to the bed.

Loki's skin was sunken and white as the bed-sheets. Hair which lay in an ebony halo beneath his head and across his white sweaty brow made the dark eye-shadows below green orbs to stand out even greater on the skin. Odin also saw the gray which appeared around the temples. A small voice told him that Loki was far too young to grow gray hair.

His emerald eyes stared straight up at the ceiling, though they were unseeing. Odin knew such a look. His dear Frigga had that look right before... No. Odin could not believe that eyes once so bright with mischief would ever come to be this dead.

Sif's sweet, soft voice came from downstairs, and in the silent little room, it sounded like the voice of an angel.

"From God our Heavenly Father  
>A blessed Angel came;<br>And unto certain Shepherds  
>Brought tidings of the same:<br>How that in Bethlehem was born  
>The Son of God by Name.<p>

O tidings of comfort and joy,  
>Comfort and joy<br>O tidings of comfort and joy."

"Sif is getting better." Thor said, a spark of pride in his voice. Loki have a small, weak nod as a response. It appeared to be the only thing he could still do.

Odin simply did not know what to think, let alone what to do! Where was he? Where was his future self? Why was he not here? How could he not be here? Had his actions grow so ill towards his children that they would deny him this? Had he denied himself this? Had he denied _them _this?

He watched helplessly as Loki twitched, and his throat spasmed. He saw those eyes widen in pain before rolling back. He coughed - once, twice, frail body shaking with the force of them. Blood now stained those once colorless lips and Odin found his heart was breaking.

"Thor?" Loki asked, voice so small, so tired. In an instant, his brother took his shaking cold hands in his.

"I am here, Brother." Thor said, and his voice was the gentleness Odin had ever heard of him. Like in a daze, Loki searched for the speaker with his eyes. "I am here..." Thor said again, and green eyes finally rested on the form of his brother brother, if barely seeing him.

"You know what I just thought of?" Loki murmured. Thor shock his head. Loki, though was probably unaware that his brother even attempted to answer, continued in a broken voice: "Remember that t... that..." Loki tried. "That time... we quarreled?"

Thor's splintered smile must have hurt. It must have hurt terribly. But Thor smiled and faking the most cheerful voice he could mutter, or just trying to keep his voice from breaking, said "You will have to be more specific, Brother. I do believe we tend to quarrel on all matters... daily."

Loki laughed—the broken sound tore through Odin's very soul. Hot tears feel from his eye and he let them do so. He couldn't afford to lose sight of his son for a single second.

"I mean... with fa-father... It was when..." Loki breathed. "... e' moved out. I think... a bit after m... mot... mother died."

Thor nodded once. "Aye... I do, little brother."

A sound of acceptance. "Do you... remember..." Loki paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, his brow tightening. "... why we fought?"

Thor scrabbled closer to him and squeezed the icy fingers hand harder.

"I think..." Loki whispered."It must have been something... important... but I can't remember... what..." He frowned, searching his memories. "It was something... blue? Blue hands? Wha... Was it... important?"

Tears blinded Thor, as did Odin. But the eldest brother didn't dare take his hands away from his brother's, even to clear his vision.

"No it wasn't." the voice that answered sounded odd to Odin's ears, for he did not yet comprehend that it was his own. "It wasn't important it all."

Loki's trembling hand shifted from its place. He pulled free of Thor's grasp and reached up toward Thor's face—the blond bent closer so his brother in all but blood could reach, and Loki touched tears.

"Are you crying, Brother?"

Thor shock his head, slow enough so Loki could feel. A faint smile grew on blood-soaked lips.

"Liar.."

Odin wept.

A jerk traveled through Loki's frame and he began to caught with a force so great his poor body shock from head to toe.

"_Thor!_" He cried between wrenching coughs, and his brother had him by the shoulders, strong arms lifting his brother up. With all his remaining strength, Loki searched to rest his head on his brother's chest. Slowly, the coughing stopped, leaving the younger man gasping for breath.

"It's all-right, little brother..." Thor was saying, arm going up and down his brother's back. "It's all-right... I have you. It's all-right."

"Brother..." Loki shuddered. "I'm scared..."

Instinctively, Thor hugged him a little tighter, and laid the side of his head against Loki's. "I know, Loki..." he soothed. "I know. But it's going to be all-right. I'm here, little brother. I am here... It's going to be all-right. Everything will be all-right..."

Thor's breaking voice continued to make false promises. At his side, Odin could do nothing but watch as his youngest son's life was draining away by each shuttering breath. Reaching closer, he tried, though he knew he could not, to touch his son's cheek.

This feeling inside, he could not name. But he knew it to be there, destroying him. It felt like pain, but not quite; it also tasted of horror, yet not quite that. It was the feeling of a father looking a son. It could not be described any way else, and maybe it needn't be any other way. Odin knew he was a father, but along the years, he had forgotten how it felt to be a father. Now, more than just remembering the feeling, he understood it. Finally, what Frigga was trying to teach her for so many years, he understood. It was never about money, never about name, never about fame, it was not even about choices - it was about certain something inside of you which would make you do anything for another.

Odin loved his sons. In his own way, he loved his sons, yet little by little, he was loosing them. Standing there, by this shadow's bedside, he understood that he just couldn't - nay - _wouldn't _be able to carry on in this way.

"It will be fine, Loki." Odin promised. His hand touched cold skin.

Because a father would always love his children.

"...Father?"

Green eyes turned to him and Odin stared. This was not supposed to happen. This was supposed to be nothing but a dream! But nonetheless, be this dream or not, Loki was looking at him. Not just looking, but truly seeing him. His eyes were on him a long while; he looked and looked and Odin could do nothing but look back. His son's lips then shifted in a smile, a smile Odin could swear was just for him.

"Now to the Lord sing praises,  
>All you within this place,<br>And with true love and brotherhood  
>Each other now embrace;<br>This holy tide of Christmas  
>All other doth deface.<p>

O tidings of comfort and joy,  
>Comfort and joy<br>O tidings of comfort and joy."

And thus, Sif's song had now come to an end. His son sighted, and it sounded like he was now finally contempt. Odin listened for another breath, but none came. He waited and waited, but the breath he so wished his son would take would never come.

"No..." Odin breathed as the room grew dark and the figure of his sons died from view. "No!" He cried as the Specter appeared to have brought Odin to a churchyard. "NO!" He screamed at the heavens and turned to the Ghost. It was pointing at a headstone. "You would not have showed me these shadows if it were past all hope. The future is not set in stone!" Odin challenged. The Specter still pointed at the headstone.

"Please, kind spirit!" Odin cried. "I will not let it come to this. Hear me, for I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been for this to happen!"

The headstone still. Drawing a grave breath, Odin made himself look at the stone. He was fully prepared to read his own name upon the stone, would have welcomed it in fact, for at least some justice would have taken place. Instead the name upon it was unfamiliar to him. He gazed to the Spirit, confusion shining in his tear-stained eye, and the Ghost pointed again. Odin turned back to the headstone and read the name one more time.It had yet to ring any bells in his mind.

Quite the irony to speak of bells just as the ones from the nearby church began to ring, signaling dawn.

It was then that Odin saw an inscription below the name. He read it once, read it twice, and turned back to the Spirit whom now had taken off the fabric which had engulfed him in night.

The sun was rising over tombstones, slowly at first, then faster by the moment.

The face of a man Odin saw briefly that night smiled at him, and Hogun the Grim nodded once before Odin was blinded by the light of the morning sun. The old man searched to shield his eyes, but found himself catching a handful of bed sheets - his own.

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><p><em>Greetings, to all and one! Oh, finally, the hardest part is don<em>_e at last. One more chapter to go, one which would most probably come this Saturday. Oh, man, was this fun (yes, author knows something is seriously messed up in the brain) but I wonder, had all the Ghosts' work truly caused Odin to change, or will he embrace the belief that this was all nothing but a dream? And if he will, what will come of his sons? Well, we shall see in the next chapter. Until then, stay safe!_

MINI CONTEST!  
>Congratulations to TheNewWinterSoldier who spotted the most references used in the last chapter. As stated before, the art will come soon enough. Probably sooner than latter. And now, for one last game:<p>

_Question of the day: _Why was Sif singing "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen"?


	5. The End of It

**Author now declares:** I hold no ownership over the quotations taken from Charles Dickens's _A Christmas Carol_ which is in public domain, nor do I claim ownership over _Thor. _This is written for the purpose of fan entertainment only.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>  
><strong>The End of It<br>**

Yes! The sheets were his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own.

"Blessed be me... Could it truly be?" He pinched himself, and wept in joy at the pain. It was real! This was all real! And though he knew not how he ended up in bed, he jumped off it like a youngster at Christmas would. Blessed be all, he _felt _like a youngster at Christmas would! He dashed to the fireplace and gazed upon its mantle. Happy faces gazed back at him, and Odin laughed his first true laugh in years!

Best and happiest of days, the time before him was his own! The Ghosts, may they all be blessed, had given him another chance! A chance to make amends, a change to make it right.

He dashed at the window, the same Laufey's ghost had flew out of, and let his eye savored the beauty of the morning. T'was quite no time like the present, and this time, he would not be a simple bystander. No Christmas was not to pass him unnoticed ever again.

... But was it still Christmas? He could not be certain.

"You, boy!" He called to the child which was passing just then.

"Eh?" Returned the child, startled by the stranger which addressed him so unexpectedly.

"What's today?"

"Huh? I beg your pardon?" Odin was sure the child heard right, but much like he would have done himself were the roles be reversed, found it hard to believe one would inquire such of him.

Surpassing a chuckle, Odin repeated. "What's today, my dear boy?"

"Why, t'is Christmas Day, sir!"

Christmas Day! He was right. He didn't miss it. The Spirits worked their magic in but a night, if it even was a night. But real or not, it mattered little to Odin now. He was given time - he now had to use it wisely.

Hmmm... he should probably begin by restore his image as a respectable person of society to the boy before going about his plan. Just in case, mind you.

"Excellent my dear boy! I thank you." Odin called back to the lad. "You must pardon an old man. Age does funny things to the brain. For a moment, I was under the impression that I was living in yesterday."

That earned a laugh from the child. "T'was no problem, sir!"

"Say... Do you know of Hamidall's, down the next street at the corner?'' Odin inquired.

"Why, I do hopes I do, sir. Few are those who don't." replied the lad.

"Wonderful my boy!" Odin cheered. " I can tell by the wits of you that you're meant to grow into quite the clever sire." The child blush. "I have a request of you my boy, have you the time."

"Time I have, sir!"

"Brilliant, lad! Go pop over old Hamidall's and see if he still has that prize turkey hanging in the window."

"Why, no need for that, sir! If you speak of the bird which 'appens to be as big as me then it's still hanging in the shop window."

"Such a remarkable lad you are, my friend." Odin cried. "Go and buy it for me."

"Aww... y'er pulling my leg, sir!"

"No, no! I speak to you in earnest. Go buy it for me and I'll give you a shilling. Oh no - I'll give you five shillings! Get it here in less than five minutes and you've earned yourself half a crown!"

The boy was gone before Odin even finished speaking, and the old man allowed himself to laugh to himself once more. Again, he turned to the mantle and gazed at the pictures, gazed at his children, gazed at his beloved Frigga.

"My dear..." he said, addressing the portrait of his wife. "I promise you I will make it right." He planted a kiss on the picture, and with another loving glance, moved to make himself presentable. He made haste to dress all in his best, for today was quite a special day.

Not even five minutes later, the boy returned, turkey and all. And oh, what a magnificent specimen it was! Why, the boy could barely lift it. Odin gave him a whole crown for his efforts then made haste with the turkey.

The boy had barely believed his eyes when the old man seemed to manage with the beast with such ease. But then, Odin was not your ordinary old man now was he? No. Old man Odin was old man Odin, whom was a surprisingly merry man that Christmas Day. So merry in fact that he even declared his love to the door knocker. He cared little for the odd looks the lad gave him at that.

"It reminds me greatly of a dear friend of mine, my boy."

Oh, Laufey, sly blue fox which he was... Bless be that cunningness of his! Oh, Odin had not been blind to his motives for one moment. He knew Laufey orchestrated it all, some way or another, but he didn't care.

"I now know who the better of us was. But thank be giving for him being mere general in youth. I dare not think what it could have been were he King!"

He greeted everyone in his path and called to all a Merry Christmas. People who knew him paused to stare upon the miracle, those who did not laughed and greeted him back, then came to whisper of the strange merry old man behind his back. Odin cared not for such, for today he was as happy as any man can ever hope to be.

He stopped to light a candle at church, stopped by the baker and several more shops as well. He must have spent more money than he had in years, yet none complained because of it. Odin least of them all.

He now had stashed in a sack (for he sadly lacked the arms needed to hold everything) the turkey, plum pudding, mince pies and other such goodies. He also had a few positively charming toys in that sack (he himself took a liking to the purple stuffed pony the toymaker said went by the name of Twilight Sparkle). In short, he was ready for everything, yet nothing at the same time.

"But in the end, are we not so always?" he casually asked himself at some point. For indeed, whoever is ever really ready?

In an end he reached the little cottage he had once called home. And he found that he was nervous.

He listened to the sounds of the house. Beyond the door he could hear little Sif singing carols. Little Sif, whom Odin never took the time to meet before. He must passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go up and knock. And when he did, it was little Sif who greeted him most joyously.

"Hello, sir! And Marry Christmas!"

"A merry Christmas to you too, little one!" Odin said back, earning a giggle from the little girl in turn. "Tell me, my dear, is your father about? Or your uncle perhaps?" Sif nodded eagerly and called for her uncle before disappearing back into the house.

"Sif? Who is at the door?"

_This was it... _Odin told himself as he stood his ground. He reminded himself that last night, although felt quite real, had probably been just a dream. But as the door opened fully and he looked upon his youngest son, his heart could not forget the pain it felt when those green eyes which now gazed at his person in pure surprise died so slowly right in front of him.

His heart knew that he could not bear to see such a thing again.

"F... Father?" Loki asked and blinked a few times, as if he were trying to determine if he was dreaming or not. He appeared the same as he did last night, though probably a little pinker in the cheeks. The wine, no doubts, was to blame for that.

"Merry Christmas, Loki" Odin greeted, for truly, what else could he say?

Loki too, though known as Liesmith and Silertongue by some, appeared at a loss of word. "W-... Why are you here?" Loki shuttered to ask at last. But Loki never shutters, Odin knows. Nor does he fidgets with the sleeves of his coat. But today he did.

He had caught him unprepared, Odin soon determined, for even the best trickster needs time to pit on the mask. Loki was certain he would not see him today. Odin being here, on their doorstep, was not something he expected. And though it pained him to notice that mask slowly slipping back upon his youngest son's features, he finally understood the need of it.

"I have been invited for Christmas dinner."

"You have never come before." Indeed, he did not.

"And I knew not what I missed. I had hoped I could perhaps make it up this year. I even brought a peace offering." He motioned at the turkey he had with him. Loki nodded once and tried to bite down on something - be it smile or a cough, Odin hopped it to be the former.

"It is not yet dinnertime." Loki pointed out and now Odin was the one to nod.

"You state your point well, my son -" It was probably the wrong thing to say.

"I am not your son." Loki shot back immediately, body rigid, eyes hard. Odin cursed his own foolishness, yet praised it at the same time. The mask was still not completely on, or Loki would not have reacted on impulsion. Odin was certain of it.

"Yes you are Loki. What I said then... I did not mean it."

"Then why did you say it?"

"I still hurt after the death of your mother..."

"We were mourning too. You had no excuses, _father_." _Indeed, I did not_.

"Loki..." He began. "I have wronged you - and your brother - greatly. Words cannot begin to express just how much I regret this. You know the hearts and truths of people well, my son, so you must know that I speak no lies to you." Loki was fidgeting, and chose to look at anything save Odin's eye. He needed time, he needed space, he needed to take on the role of trickster, but Odin wished for none of that. Today, after so many years, he wished to speak at the lad he had seen joke with his brother last night. He wished to see his youngest child.

"Look at me, my son." Odin urged.

"Why do you still call me that?" Loki challenged and Odin was happy to see that he indeed was looking him in the eye.

Visions of a broken body came to mind and Odin let reason leave him for just this once, and chose to let his heart speak freely. His old yet still strong arms opened wide and wrapped themselves around the slender man. He heard Loki gasp, no doubt startled at the unexpected gesture. Odin smiled.

"F-f-father? What are you doing?" Loki sputtered. Odin tightened his hold.

"I have lived to see you walk from me once. I watched you leave and did nothing to stop you. I was wrong." Odin confessed and felt his son slowly grow calm again. "You hid yourself from me and left a trickster to be seen in your stead, a trickster I long believed it was you. All these years, I watched without seeing. But even an old fool such as myself can learn from his mistakes. I have learned not to let go anymore, Loki." He pushed the young man at arm's length afterwards, yet his hands did not let go of his shoulders. "Will you allow me to try a second time, Loki?" Tears sparkled at the corner of Loki's eyes, and Odin felt that for the first time in a long time, he did the right thing.

"I still haven't forgiven you." Loki said at length, brushing unshed tears from his eyes.

"I haven't asked it of you."

"You'll make mistakes again."

"As mortals do, but I will also make amends. I will not ask of your forgiveness, but earn it not much unlike the way I lost it. I only ask of your forgives for even if the turkey reached its destination soundly, I am afraid I could not help myself to try a bit of pudding along the way."

Loki barked a short laugh and Odin's smile grew. He finally did the right thing. But the moment was broken by a cough from the younger of the two men, and Odin found himself asking if he had seen a doctor for that. Loki never had the change to answer.

"Brother!" The booming voice of Thor came from within. "Sif tells me Father Christmas is on our doorstep. What does she..."

Dear heart alive, what a face did the mighty Thor wore upon his face! Both Loki and Odin found themselves laughing at it, though their laughs were not in malice. Who could blame the man though? In front of him was a man whom was both his father and "employer" and as such probably knew not what to do.

Thor asked "Who are you?" To which Odin replied "Your father for today, my son. Your employer for tomorrow, maybe? That in, unless my clerk decides to wear his own skin for a change?"

Loki's eyes were probably unable to grow bigger, and Thor blushed crimson. No doubt none of them ever suspected such words to come from the man they knew was their father. Loki seemed akin to ask something at the time, had Sif's cry of joy at the sight of the pony sticking out of Odin's bag not served as the right distraction the old man needed.

_Yes,_ Odin said to himself, _today would be a fine day indeed._

As he believed it would be, the day turned out to be a fine one indeed. Once Sif literally dragged "Father Christmas" inside, everything seemed to set itself in place. They singed and dance and made complete fools of themselves. Jane's scolds were music to Odin ears, Thor's booming laughter warmer than the very fire of the heart, and Loki's harmless pranks came at quite the most unexpected of times. Though uncomfortable at first, their little celebration lasted well into the evening. And as dinnertime came, they all agreed the turkey was tastier than the goose. But if you were to ask Loki, the pudding was testier than both.

As next day came their way, Odin was back at his firm, waiting patiently for his clerk to step in. In an end, the clerk did came, only this time, his clerk was no longer wearing the skin of a tall blond man with sky-green eyes. No, today his clerk wore the skin of a fair-skinned man of less towering height, with raven hair and forest-green eyes. Odin could not be happier.

"Fancy seeing you stop by today, my dear Loki." Odin said, testing his grounds. Loki offered him a smile.

"You see me stopping by every day, sir. As far as I recall, you pay me for doing so."

"Oh? I was under the impression that my clerk was taller, blonder..."

Loki didn't seem to take too kindly to his game. "Does my patron already wish me to go back at being such?"

"Actually, I merely wish for my clerk to inform me of his sudden change of appearance." Odin gave him a challenge.

"Hardly sudden sir. Merely... no longer required." There was a pause, and Odin could no longer fight the smile. "If I may be so bold to ask sir, what gave me away?"

"Oh?" Odin was off his stool in an instant, marching toward the young man as would a general towards his troops. "Give you away? Why... nothing at all! You know your brother better than most. Better than I, that is certain. Your disguise was perfect."

Unused to the praise, Loki merely inclined his head, though for all that's worth, he still did not know what to make of it. Come yesterday, Odin started to add rather far too odd. Thor assured him a couple of times that all was well and that he should enjoy the change, but Loki being Loki knew something was afoot. Men like Odin don't change overnight without a purpose. For that reason, yesterday he chose to watch the old man as closely as he could. Had the old man fallen ill? Apart from the unusual cheer, he could see nothing wrong. Was he losing his mind?

"But today, my good clerk, we must see to some urgent affairs. The first of the lot, my boy, is the re-discussing of your position here. As well as your salary. It is much too small. We must raise it." Loki chocked on air. "And there is also the issue with that caught of yours. I couldn't help you trying to cover it up a few times yesterday. So I've called a doctor to see to you this afternoon. Of course, only if you're up to it. And think not of the expenses. I'm paying for it. As will I for anything the doctor will prescribe you."

Loki had a momentary idea of knocking Odin down with a nearby chair; holding him, and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat. This was... real?

"Sir, I beg your pardon but... have you been drinking?" _Please say yes._

"Haven't had a drop since yesterday."

"I find that hard to believe."

Odin chuckled with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. "I know you still do not believe me, but I give you my word, Loki. Everything will be better - for all of us." Loki would be skeptical for weeks to come, yet the old man didn't mind.

And Odin was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more. For every wrong he ever did, he did two rights to right it back.

He took his eldest son as member of his firm, and thought him all the tools of the trade. For his youngest, he searched out the best healers in the city. Money was not an issue any more for Odin, and while his youngest would refuse charity, Odin took his payment in time and the trust that while under his two sons' administration his old firm will once again flourish.

It did.

By the time the next Christmas came about, the old Odinson cottage glowed with life. Carols were sung and dances were danced, pudding was eaten and wine carefully tasted. An evergreen tree would always shine in the corner as the fire burned in the heart. Odin would smile for he knew Laufey must be proud of himself out there somewhere, but as Odin would watch his youngest run with Sif upon his shoulders, skin now a healthy pink and no longer plagued by coughs, he would just have to be pleased. A life was lived but once, and Odin now lived it with laughter in his heart. And with Thor and Loki as his sons, laughter came much too natural for even his cold, old one.

He also learned not to mind when Loki would occasionally turn him blue for the day.

Ghosts no longer bothered him, though he could swear three of the lads Thor is mates with seem most familiar to him. But as the words on the tombstone of one Ebenezer Scrooge would often remind him, life is too short to worry. One day every day lived to the fullest will just have to be enough.

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><p><em>With past as your teacher make present your future,<br>for life is but knitted by all, as it is so needed._

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><p><em>And that wraps it! The story is now over! Complete! Finis! End! And all the lovely things. Now we can get back to some proper pudding. Speaking of which, I am a little hungry now. Maybe I'll hunt down some pudding for myself now. But before that, a warm thank you to everyone who asked supported me in this. All your reviews have been wonderful and I love you all! But sadly, nobody tried to guess last chapter's question of the day. "God Rest Ye' Merry, Gentlemen" is a carol for unity and how humanity in a whole becomes one by just one idea. Ever since the beginning I knew this story had to focus a little less on redemption per say and a little more on family, because Odin really wasn't that much of a wonderful father. Emphasis on "father". We don't want the badass Odin to change (warrior, wise man, etc) but the father who... quite frankly wasn't that much of a father. <em>

_All that said, thank you once again! God bless you all and a Merry Christmas to all!  
><em>


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